


Just You and I

by camellia



Category: Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-27 00:23:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1708097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camellia/pseuds/camellia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a year with Spyral, Dick returns to the Batcave and he and Bruce finally talk. Mild spoilers for Nightwing #30.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just You and I

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Just You and I 只有我们俩](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3165842) by [PinkZebra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkZebra/pseuds/PinkZebra)



> Mostly gen, but could be construed as pre-slash. Melodramatic all over, and silly at the end.

Bruce was the only familiar face that Dick had kept in contact with since his “death.” If strictly topical exchanges could be called contact. Whenever they had talked, it was always in the shadows. Always encrypted. And only about the mission. In the deep recesses of his mind, Dick was jealous of the rest of the family, and he hated himself for it. Tim, Babs … heck, even Jason had probably gotten more half-smiles from Bruce in the past year than he had. And Dick couldn’t believe that he still cared about the man, especially when he was no longer sure that the man cared back.

But here he was, soundlessly sneaking into the Batcave on New Year’s Eve, reporting for duty after he’d neutralized the threat of Spyral. It had to be Stockholm syndrome. God, he made himself sick.

Bruce didn’t even look up from the screen. “I saw,” he grunted. Of course he had. “Congratulations.”

Dick made a noncommittal noise. He’d asked Bruce, at the very beginning, _why me_? Because Nightwing, even without the mask, was Batman’s most trusted soldier. But that wasn’t the answer he had wanted; it never was. _Do you even care about me?_ Dick figured that he might as well ask. Their relationship was shot to hell anyway. And if Bruce didn’t care, if his heart really had gone cold, maybe Dick could be the one to punch him in the face this time.

“Batman,” Dick said curtly. (He couldn’t call Bruce by his first name right now.) “I'm still angry," he said, taking a breath to steady himself, "you know, about ... everything.”

Bruce favored him with a glance. “You agreed, Dick," he said gruffly. "It had to be done.”

“You threw away my life, Batman,” Dick said, looking Bruce straight in the eye. “You took advantage of me, because you know how much I … I respected your word. You used my loyalty against me."  _And, unfathomably, I'm still loyal_ , he sighed. 

Bruce had the gall to look mildly affronted. “Dick, I would _never_ take advantage of you,” he ground out. “Spyral was a _threat to our existence_. You were _always_ my ultimate sacrifice.”

“Is that what I am,” Dick said humorlessly. "Your sacrificial lamb. Thanks, Batman." He was feeling particularly vicious now. “You never would’ve done this to Damian. Your _real_ son.”

“I never you saw you as my son …”

Dick exhaled deeply. Five years ago, those words would’ve brought tears to his eyes. It still hurt, but he didn’t let himself cry anymore. “That’s all I needed to know,” he said. He was incinerating that certificate of adoption once he got his hands on it.

“You were always my _partner_ ,” Bruce continued, staring far off into the cave. “And beyond that, Dick, you’re better than me. Incorruptible, even. I trusted you with Spyral when I wouldn’t have even trusted myself.”

Dick nearly snorted. “You could’ve said that last year, Bruce, instead of beating me to a pulp here in the cave.”

“I’m messed-up, Dick,” Bruce chuckled grimly. “Especially around you. But I had to make sure that you would … be at my side. No matter what Spyral threw at you. Even if I pushed you away,” he said. “And besides, if it had ended any other way, I wouldn’t have been able to let you go.”

“You didn’t have to let me go,” Dick replied harshly. “All those times we talked, Bruce. You treated me like a hired gun. It was always about the mission.”

“You’ve always been so fearless, Dick,” Bruce said, shaking his head. “Throwing you into Spyral was like feeding you to a shark and asking you to claw your way out. I mean it when I said that you’re my greatest sacrifice. I knew that you might die on the mission, and to me, that would be even worse than my own death. I know that I don’t handle grief well,” Bruce said, pausing.

 _Understatement of the century_ , Dick thought.

“It was selfish, but I had to stay guarded around you,” Bruce continued hoarsely, “I had to train myself for the possibility of your death. I care about you, Dick, more than you believe. If you had died, if I had sent you to your death … I needed to plan for that, otherwise I wouldn't have survived.”

That was about as close to the L-word as Bruce got. “Well,” Dick said weakly, “I’m alive now.”

“You are,” Bruce said, as if realizing it once again.

“Soooo …” Dick said, glancing at the screen. “Two-face again, huh? Never thought I’d be glad to see that name again.”

“Hijacking a Vicodin shipment from Abbott Laboratories,” Bruce said reflexively.

“Not his usual MO,” Dick whistled. “Mind if I come along? I could wear my old Robin suit again.”

Bruce visibly gulped. “Dick, I don’t know if the shorts …”

“Kidding, kidding!” Dick said. He gracefully shrugged off his jacket and pants, revealing a non-descript black suit. “It’s what I wore on a few Spyral missions,” he said, a little sadly. He walked over to the batmobile. “Can I drive?”

Bruce pulled the cowl up. “Of course.”

“And for the record,” Dick said, once they were both comfortably seated, “I do still fit into my short shorts. I’ve checked.”


End file.
